And Then It Bit Him
by who-la-hoop
Summary: Severus Snape/Count D - HP crossover. When Snape's first Animagus transformation doesn't go entirely as expected, he finds himself plagued by a mysterious being, who – in the company of a pet man-eating goat thing – proceeds to turn his life upside down.


Severus wiggled then stopped. He itched to check that no-one had spotted him – even though that was irrational and ridiculous, because he knew for certain that was no-one was around. He thought he must still be disorientated from the transformation, however, because the world remained blank – simple patches of light, rather than shape. That wasn't the main reason he held himself still, however. A Snape – whether in company or no – did _not_ wiggle. Of all the things he'd ever done in his life, wiggling was certainly not one of them, no matter the provocation.

He supposed he should feel relief that the spell had worked, and that his insides hadn't ended up on the outside. The eyesight issue was a little worrying, but he felt no doubt that it was a temporary problem, and one that would soon right itself. What he mostly felt, however, was annoyance. Deep, heartfelt annoyance that, while he had evidently transformed successfully, no-one had warned him that movement in his new form would fail to come as second nature.

He supposed that his difficulties had come mainly because of a noticeable lack of legs – a lack which failed to surprise him. The books had warned that an Animagus form could not be chosen; that the animal chose the wizard, in a sense. Severus had entertained certain hopes on that matter, though. He was a Slytherin. He was cunning. He had been a spy – and an incomparable one, at that. He was subtle and slippery and sinuous – and snakelike. It was inconceivable that these characteristics would not reflect themselves in his form. He didn't need to hope to become a snake – he _knew_ he would be one. And, given his current lack of appendages, his expectations had obviously been met. Now the only challenge was to regain his sight and discover exactly what breed of snake he was. Severus had hopes that it would be a poisonous variety.

It was a relief, Severus had to admit, that his mental faculties were unimpaired. He'd chosen, as the site of his first transformation, the forest of Inverfarigaig. While he'd entertained grand ideas of remote deserts or icy regions far from prying eyes, when he'd actually consulted a map, he'd become beset by doubts. The problem with vast, uninhabited regions was that they failed to actually be uninhabited. Wizard kind flocked to uninhabited regions, setting up cities and villages wherever Muggles failed to thrive. And Severus felt very certain that, during his first transformation, he wished to be alone and uninterrupted. Particularly – he had to admit – if it went wrong. He desired no mutilated body – half reptile, half human – to be left for a curious witch or wizard to find. He was certain – very certain – that no such incident would occur, but… it was best to be on the safe side.

Inverfarigaig, whilst sounding disturbingly like something a Muggle with a sickness would hack up out of their lungs, was a sparsely inhabited Muggle village where trees vastly outnumbered residents. It was quiet, it was forested, and it was close to a comfortingly ancient loch. While Severus doubted he would transform into some kind of seafood, he liked the idea of proximity to water. So, on a frozen, late-December day, when any sensible Muggle would be safe indoors, Severus Apparated to his chosen location and performed the full Animagus transformation ritual for the very first time.

His reflections led him back to his most immediate problem – namely, the wiggling. He calmed his mind, attempting to sense his way through his new body. He was cold, horrendously cold, but then that was to be expected. He slowed down his breathing. His heart beat – no, his heart _beats_ were regular. That was unexpected. It was difficult to judge, but something wasn't normal there. He listened harder – and became aware of another strangeness. He couldn't hear anything. He felt, rather than heard, the regular thumps of his hearts, his blood pulsing along his body in strong spurts.

Severus began to suspect that things weren't going entirely to plan. Still, this was his form – and one he was stuck with – so he owed it to himself to explore it fully. He flexed his muscles experimentally and, after a few false starts, managed to get a rhythm going. He felt the ground scrape over his belly and, with it, a sense of pride. He could move! Now all he had to do was –

The world _tilted_. Severus was no longer sure whether up was down, or down was up. There was a strange pinching sensation around his middle. It didn't hurt, but his whole body was dangling (and that was an odd feeling, to be sure) from a specific point. Something solid scraped along his length. Severus decided that now wasn't the time to panic – he didn't _have_ time to panic. He was about to be eaten. Of all the indignities! Of all the ways to go! The words of the reversal spell echoed in his mind. He had no idea whether simply thinking the spell would be effective – but it was better than being munched upon by a lower species. He thought the spell, as hard as he could, and filled with relief as his eyes flooded with light, his body stretching and filling out into its usual bony form.

Severus lay there for a moment, his heart pounding. He didn't feel any pain, so he presumed that the presumptuous carnivore had been scared away by his sudden change from snake to human. He was, however, lying on something uncomfortable.

It was only when it spoke that Severus realised it was alive – alive and, by the tone of its voice, irritated.

"Kindly remove yourself from my person," the voice said, the tone somewhere between 'cold' and 'hysterical'.

Severus shot up, his wand at the ready. Muggles be damned – he was ready to Obliviate if he must. He expected to see a badly-dressed huntsman of some description, or an eyesore of a Muggle tourist. He was even prepared – Merlin forbid – to be confronted by tartan. He didn't expect a delicate, refined-looking person clad in a lavishly embroidered dress, glaring at him like he'd killed his – or possibly her – first born child. Severus had never seen anyone before and not been able to tell whether they were wizard or Muggle. Indeed, he couldn't even tell if the person in front of him was a man or a woman. He focused. The man – woman – had an odd aura that he'd come to associate with highly magical creatures, rather than humans. He frowned. Neither Muggle nor wizard. Just what exactly was the being in front of him?

The person was drumming their fingernails on the forest floor – long, feminine fingernails. On anyone else, Severus would have thought them ridiculous, as well as positive proof that women were insane. However, on this person they looked terrifying, rather than some kind of vain frippery. Severus took a step back. They spoke of gouging out eyes – despite the immaculate varnish. Just to one side lay a wicker basket, on its side, the contents spilling out across the half-frozen grass and earth. Binoculars, Severus noticed, and a box of expensive looking chocolates.

"I require assistance, if you would be so kind." The person spoke with a male-sounding voice – sweet, but with a sharp edge. He had an odd accent, which Severus expected matched his Chinese looks. Severus had met a few wizards from China, but none had looked quite as bizarre as the person in front of him. Who was glaring even harder. "If you can bring yourself to cast aside your twig for just a moment, that is."

Severus started at that. He'd never met anyone so immediately unreadable. Did this man – surely, he must be a man – really not recognise a wand when he saw one? Severus stowed his wand in his sleeve and offered a hand, keeping a wary eye out for any sudden movement. The man was surprisingly heavy and Severus nearly stumbled back on top of him, wincing as sharp nails dug into his hand. They almost overbalanced the other way when Severus tugged harder, the man coming up hard against his chest. He was shorter than Severus by some inches, and when he looked up into Severus' face, Severus noticed that his eyes were different colours – neither of them natural looking in the slightest.

"What are you?" Severus asked, tensing.

"I am known as Count D," the man said, a half-smile on his lips. "What are you?"

Severus felt marginally more certain that he was talking to a man. He also felt marginally more irritated. What sort of a way was that to answer a question? "I am Professor Snape," he said, scowling down at the enigma in front of him. _Legilimens_ he thought, focusing hard.

For a moment he was pulled into a dazzling, incomprehensible slide-show of images – before a sharp, sudden pain on his cheek shoved him back out. He blinked, raising a hand to his face. He was bleeding.

"My apologies," Count D said. Severus thought he didn't look very sorry. "Is it not normal to knock before entering?"

Severus frowned at him. A Muggle would not have been able to detect Legilimency. He felt strongly though that this Count, or whatever he was, was no wizard. "You didn't answer my question," he said, finally. "What are you?"

Count D licked delicately at one finger. Severus shuddered when he realised he was licking a drop of blood – Severus' own blood – from it. "I own a pet shop," he said. "What are you?"

Severus reached for his wand again. "Tired of this," he said. "Oblivi—"

Before he could finish the word though, Count D moved. He moved so quickly that, if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Severus would have thought it impossible. D's fingers closed around the wrist of Severus' wand hand. He didn't squeeze hard, but Severus held still certain, without quite knowing why, that if he moved then the Count could – and would – break his bones just by flexing his fingertips.

"What are you?" the Count said, not relaxing his grip on Severus' wrist. He raised a finger to his lip and tilted his head. "You are not an animal – I could not see your soul." He leaned in closer for a second, sniffing. "You smell like a human."

Severus held his tongue. Better, he thought, than stinking of cheap incense and – he sniffed back – sugar. The Count smelled like a collision between a florists and a confectionary shop. It was faintly nauseating.

"And yet, when I picked you up," the Count continued, "you were a worm."

"I was a snake," Severus said, rather testily.

Count D raised one thin, dark eyebrow. "You were a worm. An earthworm. _Lumbricus terrestris,_ if you insist upon it. You look like a man who would, Professor."

Severus wasn't sure he liked the way the Count said the word 'professor'. He certainly didn't like the way the Count smirked when he said the word 'earthworm'. Particularly not when he was completely, utterly wrong. Severus' Animagus form was a serpent. A noble, excellent serpent – and of that, there was no doubt.

"I was looking for the Loch Ness monster," Count D said, releasing his grip on Severus' hand, but keeping his eyes fixed on his face. "I wished to offer her sanctuary in my shop. I failed in my task today, however, so I decided to take a walk and take some tea in this forest. I spotted an earthworm with intriguing properties so I picked it up to examine it further. Whereupon—" he continued, his expression growing petulant, "it changed into a clumsy oaf who knocked my things down and made my clothing untidy."

"And I," Severus said, glaring back, "was minding my own business in this forest, occupied on personal business, when an inappropriately dressed idiot picked me up and—"

"Inappropriately dressed?" Count D echoed, his voice raising to almost a squeak. His hands balled into loose fists.

Severus snorted. "Indeed. A forest is no place for finery. If you find your clothing soiled, you have only yourself to blame. I'm surprised you haven't broken a nail."

To Severus' surprise, the Count paled. "That truly would be a tragedy," he said, and Severus could have sworn he was serious. Then his face switched back to angry. "And one which would have been entirely your fault!" he shouted.

Severus realised he was standing in a lonely forest, talking to a madman. A madman who'd seen him change from animal to human, and yet seemed to be mainly concerned with the safety of his fingernails. It was time to leave. He whipped around, landing safely by the side of the road approaching Hogwarts. He felt a brief dissatisfaction that he had failed to solve the mystery of who – and what – the Count was, but mostly he felt relief he'd escaped with all his limbs intact. Some mysteries, Severus decided, were better off unsolved.

*****

The problem with unsolved mysteries, Severus realised some days later, was that they were intensely irritating. After the war – and after Hogwarts was finally rid of all flavours of Potters and Weasleys (Severus fully intended to be retired, or otherwise engaged, by the time the next generation were ready for school) – he'd vowed to never let anything, or anyone, irritate him as much as Potter did. The bratty schoolchildren did their best, but they were easy to terrify, and in his new role as Headmaster he barely had to try at all. A billowing robe and a dark scowl did the job the majority of the time.

It wasn't that Severus wanted to get to know Count D. On the contrary – the man showed excellent potential for being as annoying, if not more so, as both generations of Potter, put together. That smell! Those fingernails! That smug, knowing smile and inscrutable eyes! Besides, Severus thought with a sniff, he was far too beautiful. Being around beauty always made Severus feel slightly uncomfortable, as if the universe was making an unfavourable comparison. And the man wore a dress – a feminine, ornate dress.

Severus' potion boiled over and the first years let out a brief titter – although they fell silent immediately when Severus utilised his best glare. The situation, he thought, was getting ridiculous. He never made mistakes, and particularly not while brewing such simple potions. He never lost concentration during his work. This man – neither Muggle nor wizard – had evidently cast some sort of spell on him. There could be no other explanation. He would have to find this D, make him reverse whatever charm he had placed on Severus' unfortunate self, and then they could part forever more.

Severus felt a sense of relief upon his decision. He was looking forward to being able to stop thinking about the Count. Once the mystery was solved he'd be able to put him out of his mind entirely, he was sure.

*****

"Have you seen a Chinese man in a dress?" Severus asked the woman at the reception desk of the small hotel. "I believe he is hunting the Loch Ness monster, or something equally ridiculous."

The woman smiled. "I'm afraid not, sir," she said. "Are you here to meet Nessie yourself?" She turned, reaching for a room key.

Severus received the key without comment, nodding and walking to his room. He would have preferred a larger, more anonymous, hotel, but New Year's Eve was fast approaching and this was the only place with a room available. The room, when he entered it, made him shudder. Every surface was decked with Quidditch memorabilia – and cat ornaments. When he glared, out of principle, around the room, several dozen ornaments hissed at him. He glared harder, vowing to find the Count before nightfall so he could return to the comfort of his Hogwarts rooms.

After several hours of walking along one side of the Loch, Severus began to have doubts about his plan. What if the madman had only been toying with him, and didn't intend to track down the famous inhabitant of the Loch? Or what if he were madder than even Severus had thought, and believed he had found it, returning home in triumph with a newt – or some such – in his wicker basket? All locating spells had failed him, and if it had been a wizard that Severus was tracking, he would have concluded that the man was determined not to be found. He wasn't, however. He was just a strange man with bizarre taste in clothing and, once Severus had double-checked that and made him remove his evil influence from Severus' mind, Severus could leave him be. _Wanted_ to leave him be.

Severus screwed his eyes tight shut for a moment as he stomped down the footpath. He could feel a headache coming on. Then he felt something else – an idiot, entirely not looking where they were going, slamming full into him.

"My," said a displeased voice. "Are you determined to do me injury, Professor?"

Severus looked down into the cold gaze of the one man he'd been looking for. "You!" he spluttered.

The Count's expression shifted from one of anger to something more knowing. He looked shifty – and sarcastic. He made Severus want to hit something, and hard. The Count inclined his head. His hair fell across his face – poker straight and pure black – before the Count straightened back up, an unpleasant smile on his lips.

Severus grasped one of the Count's arms.

The Count narrowed his eyes. "Ouch," he said, trying to pull away. Severus got the impression he wasn't nearly using his whole strength. "Be so kind as to release me." Then a speculative look flashed over the Count's face. "Unless you were planning to escort me to tea?" His face lit up. "There is a tea shop that does delightful cakes, just a few steps further along this path."

"I don't eat cake," Severus said, trying not to look as bewildered as he felt. Was this flighty, mercurial personality a front – or was Count D really that bizarre? "Sugar disagrees with me."

Count D smiled; a sweet, sweet smile. "All the more for me then," he said.

Severus found himself being guided down the path, arm in arm with a man in a dress. A man in a dress who looked like a woman. A man in a dress who looked like a woman, who he was – apparently – about to treat to cake. The Count's fingernails were wrapped loosely around his upper arm though, so he didn't think it would be safe to complain. He did want a few things cleared up though.

"Are you a man or a woman?"

Count D's fingers tightened, just a fraction, around Severus' arm. "Are you a man or an earthworm?"

When Severus looked down at the Count, his lips were moving, as if he was muttering obscenities under his breath.

Severus smirked. "My apologies, Miss D," he said. "I was misled by your deep tone of voice. Are you a smoker?"

"I am a man!" D all but screeched, stamping his feet, his face flushing.

Severus smirked even harder, feeling that he'd gained the upper hand. "Then why do you wear dresses?"

"I'm not wearing a dress," D wailed. "This is a traditional unisex outfit, you cultureless buffoon!"

They reached the entrance to the tearoom and Count D stormed in, his hair flying wildly about and his face red and vexed. As soon as they sat down, however, his mood changed again. He took a deep breath and clasped his hands together, his bright red nails standing out starkly against the pale skin of his hands. "Oh," D said, smiling like all his dreams had come true. "What a lovely smell." He turned to the waitress. "Tea and cakes for two, if you would be so kind."

"You were wearing a dress, though, when we first met, were you not?" the Count said, turning his smile upon Severus. It had a wicked edge to it.

Severus suddenly felt uncomfortably aware of his clothing. He never felt out of place whilst wearing Muggle clothing – his upbringing had seen to that – but he preferred the formality and dignity of full-length robes. He had never once seen them as resembling a dress – not in any shape or form. "No," he said. "I was not."

Count D accepted the teapot from the waitress, pouring a stream of light-coloured liquid into a delicate china cup and sliding it over to Severus. "Why, Professor, I do believe you were."

Severus decided not to dignify that with an answer. "So," he said, after a good few minutes had gone by. Count D had shown no obvious inclination to talk – but he had, however, shown an obvious curiosity about Severus himself. He was watching every movement Severus made. It was, Severus thought, completely infuriating.

"Yes, Professor?" Count D said, smiling at him over his teacup.

Severus was struck, once again, by the bizarreness of D's eyes. One golden, one violet – neither looked natural. It was impossible to focus on his face; his eyes kept darting from one side to the other, unable to settle. "Did you find the monster?"

Count D put down his teacup, his expression very glum. He stared down at the table-cloth, his shoulders drooping. "She refused to come with me," he said. Severus was startled – and rather horrified – to see tears well up in the Count's eyes. "She said she was happy where she was!" He turned his piteous expression full on Severus. His lower lip was wobbling. "How can that be?" He shook his head hard. "I will persuade her otherwise, no matter how long it takes."

"Indeed," Severus said. He couldn't keep the note of scepticism out of his voice – and he didn't even try.

The Count opened his mouth to say something, but then the cake arrived. It was, Severus had to admit, an impressive spectacle. He'd worked with greedy children for far too many years, and yet he'd never seen anyone quite so gleeful over dessert before. The Count drank in the cake with his eyes – and then proceeded to demolish it, chasing up every crumb with his fork before resorting to a fingertip to finish the job.

Severus had never seen anyone eat so sensuously before, or with such enjoyment. He'd never, he had to admit, actually watched anybody eat before. He would have scoffed if someone had told him it would be a sight worth seeing. He still would. But… watching the Count felt uncomfortably voyeuristic, as if he was spying on him during some moment of great personal pleasure. It was both exciting and bizarre in the extreme. When the Count was done, he licked his fingers like a cat and then looked over at Severus. He jumped, as if he hadn't realised that Severus was watching, and his cheeks coloured.

"You shouldn't eat so fast," Severus said sternly. "You'll give yourself a stomach ache."

Count D smiled and poured himself another cup of tea. "Thank you for your concern. I shall be sure to eat my second helping at a slower speed." He'd signalled to the waitress before Severus had even had the time to register his shock.

There was no doubt about it, Severus thought, as he watched the Count eat more cake – enough cake to give any man a stomach ache at least twice over. Count D was definitely magical. He had to have another stomach, hidden away somewhere weird. Or perhaps he knew a spell to negate the calories in food. The man deserved to be as huge as an elephant, if he regularly ate sugar in this quantity.

"Mmm," D said, spooning some more sugar into his teacup and taking a sip. "Delicious." Then he smiled, his eyes lidded. "My apologies, Professor. I neglected to take your tastes into account. We can visit the forest for some refreshing soil, if you desire?"

Severus lurched, slopping tea into his saucer. He'd forgotten that whole sorry side of the business. He'd been too busy to attempt the transformation again, so he hadn't yet tested the veracity of D's earthworm claim. He'd been engaged in important, essential tasks like sorting out his store cupboard, tidying his desk and cleaning all his equipment. Vital things, which couldn't have waited a moment longer for his attention.

"What are you?" Severus said, leaning forward and speaking low. "I will have the truth from you this time, Count."

"Oh, how terrifying," D said lightly, taking another sip of tea. "I presume your students all cower in their boots when you take that tone."

Severus tried not to grind his teeth. "Out with it!" he snapped.

"I am a pet shop owner," Count D said mildly. "I collect rare animals. I sell pets."

"I don't mean that," Severus snarled. He cast a quick sound-muffling spell and D blinked, looking confused. "You're not a Muggle, are you? Which wizard school did you study at?"

For the first time since they'd met, Count D looked unsure of himself. He set down his teacup with obviously more force than he'd intended, since he jumped and raised one hand to his throat for just a moment. "A what?" he asked. "Did you say wizard?"

Severus cursed to himself. He'd obviously made a huge mistake. Certainly the Count was peculiar, with odd mannerisms and a strange magical presence about him – but then it wasn't uncommon for children of Muggles to occasionally show magical potential of the most basic kind. Most of the great Muggle composers and artists had shown small sparks of magic; though not nearly enough for them to be classified at wizards.

Count D was still staring at him. He looked like a little lost boy, Severus thought, his eyes wide and his mouth ajar. Then he suddenly came to life, standing up so suddenly that his chair nearly toppled backwards. "You might be of use to me," the Count said. "Pay the waitress and come with me."

Severus paid and followed, tight lipped. He was wondering when, and how, to Obliviate the Count. It evidently had to be done. The man was mad – not magical. It wasn't safe to let him wander about, believing that men turned to earthworms and back. Even if it had a grain of truth to it.

When they reached the Loch, Count D just stood there – the wind whipping his hair about. A few people hurried past, clutching their coats close to them. It was horribly cold, and Severus was surprised that the Loch hadn't frozen solid.

D reached into his bag after a moment, bringing out a small metal container. He struck a match and soon a strong, sickly incense filled the air.

"Ugh," Severus said, trying not to cough. "That is utterly repellent."

Count D narrowed his eyes. "Breathe it deep. This is my magic, Professor."

Severus sniffed harder, attempting to classify the ingredients in the incense. He could identify several herbs, but none were of a hallucinogenic variety. He could feel _something_ happening though, and it had the sharp, acrid tang of magic about it.

"I won't come with you!"

Severus spun round, facing the water. A small child was treading water with determination. Her dress was soaked and her skin blue with cold.

"I don't need to be rescued," she called. "I'm perfectly happy here."

"But wouldn't you rather—" the Count started, not appearing alarmed in any way.

Severus didn't stop to listen. There was a child drowning right in front of him. He shucked off his heavy cloak.

"Wait," the Count said, his tone startled.

Severus didn't. He dove into the water. He regretted it as soon as he hit the surface. Why hadn't he used magic? Was he some kind of idiot? The shock of the cold made his entire body shut down – for a moment he couldn't breathe, and then when he did, gasping for air, he realised he hadn't hit the surface yet. His lungs were on fire and his skin freezing into ice. Then a large force – solid and warm – shoved at him and he was flung back onto dry land. It was still too cold though and he coughed and faded into black.

*****

"If I had realised you were quite so simple minded, I would not have introduced you to Nessie."

Severus tried to enter the land of the living as warm, over-sweet liquid was forced between his lips. He tried to swallow but gagged, some of the liquid running down his chin. A gentle hand wiped it away, forcing some more liquid down his throat.

"I believed you to be a man of intelligence," the voice continued. "It is disappointing to be proved wrong."

"And so ugly, too," another voice said, with an incredulous tone. "I don't see why you didn't just leave him to die. I wouldn't eat him, even if I were starving."

Severus cracked open an eye. Count D was looking down at him with an infuriatingly knowing expression, and around him were… dozens of animals. Including, Severus registered, a kind of goat thing, which was staring at him. All the animals were staring at him, in fact. Including, from a doorway just beyond D's shoulder, a unicorn.

Severus rapidly revised his opinion of D's Muggle status.

"Now, now, Tet-chan," D said, a wicked glint in his eye. "The Professor is just homely looking. Let us not be rude to our guests."

The goat thing made a snickering noise. Severus refrained from uttering an obscenity. Either he was insane, or he'd heard it talking English, just a few seconds before. He shut his eye again.

"Homely?" it said. "More like butt ug—"

Severus reopened his eye.

"Mehhhh," the thing said. It was grinning far too widely and sarcastically for a goat.

"Tell your goat thing," Severus said, "that if it insults me again I will barbeque it with great delight."

A racoon clambered onto his bed and, to his horror, reached up with a paw and petted his hair. It was making a noise. Severus decided he didn't want to find out what it was saying, so he shifted and the thing fell off with a sad squeak.

"Pon-chan!" D squealed, picking it up and stroking it. He turned back to Severus. "Lie still, Professor," he said. He reached over and lit a swinging incense burner. "I am interested to discover what you will see."

"Would it be too much trouble for you to tell me where exactly I am?" Severus asked. He would have thought he was dreaming – except he never dreamed. He was too skilled at Occlumency, at shutting down his own memories and thoughts, for that.

"Welcome to my pet shop," the Count said as the incense swirled through the air. He was grinning now, and Severus wasn't sure he liked it.

"Who'd buy a raccoon or a goat that looks that evil?" Severus said, shaking his head and trying not to breathe in the fumes. "Please note how I am saying nothing about the unicorn."

"It's a special kind of shop," the Count said. "Can you see the animals now? Look hard."

Severus blinked. The animals… were people. He could see them now. Strange, impish people who were laughing at him. Where the goat thing had sat was a young man with horns and sharp teeth. The racoon had been replaced by a little girl with curly hair. She was crying and rubbing at her arm.

"My apologies, little girl," Severus said rather wearily. "I did not mean to push you so unceremoniously off the bed." He snorted. "In my defence, you were a racoon at the time."

The little girl choked back a sob and looked up at him, all wide eyes and sadness.

"This little one is Pon-chan," D said, patting her on the head. "And the totetsu is Tet-chan. Apologise to the Professor, now, Tet-chan."

"Totetsu as in flesh-eating beast?" Severus said, eyeing the horned-boy with distaste. "I expect Hagrid would kill to have you in his collection, along with his pet acromantulars and revolting giant brother."

Count D's eyes widened in an almost comical manner. He clasped his hands together. "An acromantular?" he said. He licked his lips. "What manner of animal is that?"

"A giant spider," Severus said. "I do not recommend the experience."

"And this Hagrid," D said, eyes still like saucers. "He collects rare animals?"

Severus thought about that. He wasn't sure he wanted to encourage D's enthusiasm. He still had some questions – like where the hell he was, and what, in the name of all things unholy, had happened. Hadn't he drowned? "What happened to the little girl?" he asked. "Did you save her?"

Count D's face saddened. "She still refused to come with me," he said regretfully. "You should visit her one day to say thank you, Professor. She did save your life."

Severus frowned – and then it clicked. "Don't tell me that – that _child_ was the Loch Ness monster?"

"She dislikes the word 'monster'," D reprimanded. "However, yes, Nessie is the giant serpent who lives in the Loch Ness waters." He pursed his lips, clasping his hands in his lap. "When you dived so recklessly into the water, she took it upon herself to push you back. I did not wish to let you freeze to death, so I took you here, to my shop, to recover."

Severus struggled to a seated position and looked down at himself with some horror. He was wearing some kind of dressing gown, but nothing like anything he owned in his own wardrobe. It was gorgeous black silk with intricate embroidery. It felt cold and slick upon his bare skin. He registered the bare skin. That meant…

D's lips pursed even tighter for a moment. Then his eyes sparkled. "I took it upon myself to change your wet clothing for something more suitable. Do not worry, Professor, I looked the other way while I did so."

The objectionable goat-boy sniggered, wrinkling his nose.

"Hush, Tet-chan," D said, his expression growing more seraphic by the second.

"How long have I been here?" Severus asked, unable to keep the despair from his voice. Was this going to be one of those nightmare fairytale scenarios where he'd re-enter the world a hundred years after he'd left it, all those he knew dead and buried? Not, he thought rather grimly, that many people would have missed him. Knowing his luck, the Headmaster position would still be open – and the school filled with Potters and Weasleys in every single year group.

"Oh my, so suspicious," D said. "Just one night. You slept so deeply I did not wish to wake you." He dislodged the little girl from his lap and leant a little closer. Was it Severus' imagination or were his teeth sharper than they should be? "Now, tell me about this Hagrid and his collection."

"Are you panting?" Severus asked. D's chest was certainly rising and falling at an abnormal rate.

"Certainly not!" the Count squeaked, his face contorting. "I am merely anticipating making new discoveries!"

Severus quirked an eyebrow and D deflated.

"Am I not allowed to be a touch excited about discovering you – a new breed of humans? I hope there are more of you! I would love to study you."

"Discovering _me_?" Severus choked. "_Studying me?!_" he struggled upright, clutching his robe tight around himself. "I think not."

"Sit back down, Professor," D said, a frown puckering his brow. He pushed on Severus' shoulder and Severus hit the bed and fell back on it.

"You are deluded if you believe you can keep me a captive," Severus said dryly. He Summoned his wand with a non-verbal spell. It flew through the air and hit his hand with a noisy crack.

"My goodness," D said, sitting back down. His nostrils flared. "What else can you do?"

Severus was nonplussed. "I am not a performing monkey," he said stiffly. He felt a bit stupid. He could have Apparated out of there, but he was conscious of his clothing. He didn't much like the idea of the walk through the Hogwarts grounds, dressed only in silk. While there was a slim chance he'd run into any other staff members or students, it was still a possibility. Besides, it was cold. There was a high likelihood his toes would fall off.

"Is there," D said, leaning forward as if he wanted to leap on Severus and poke him to see if he were real, "a whole community of people with special sticks like yours?"

"It is not a stick," Severus said disdainfully. "It is a magic wand." He'd never thought how ridiculous that would sound to someone who wasn't a wizard, before. Now that he said it, out loud, it did sound ludicrous. To add insult to injury, the goat boy sniggered and clutched at his stomach like he was dying of hilarity. Severus cast a body bind spell at it and it froze, mid-chuckle.

"Oh," D said, staring at the goat boy. "Please turn him back." He turned a pleading face to Severus. Once more, tears welled up in his eyes and his lips trembled. "Please."

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was this Count twelve years old? Still, he muttered the counter-curse and the goat boy unfroze. Then he leapt, fastening his teeth around Severus' arm. Severus yelled, flailing at the creature. It let go, a smear of blood around its mouth.

"He tastes better than he looks, Count," he said and smiled. It wasn't a very friendly smile.

"I can kill with this special stick, you know," Severus said, speaking to the goat boy.

The goat boy bared his teeth and looked, very pointedly, at Severus' throat. "Shall we have a race to see who'll win?"

"That's enough," D said, shooting to his feet. His shoulders were high and his fists clenched. His eyes were screwed shut. "Stop threatening to murder each other!" He wheeled round to face Severus. "He is not a 'goat boy'. His name is Tet-chan."

Tet-chan sniggered and D whipped round to face him. "The Professor is my guest. Unless you want to entertain Honlon, I suggest you be quiet."

"What's Honlon?" Severus asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer or not.

"My dragon," D said.

"You really would get along with Hagrid," Severus snorted. "You are both suicidal, ridiculous imbeciles. You do know that trade in dragons is illegal? I should report you to the Ministry."

Count D's jaw had dropped. Severus had never actually seen that in real life. He'd seen people open their mouths – but D's mouth was so far open that Severus could practically see his tonsils. "Mine is – ah – Chinese," he said faintly.

Then Severus had the fright of his life. Count D dropped to the floor in front of Severus, clasped the bottom of his robe and looked up at him, shiny eyed once more. "Please will you take me to your home, where I can visit these creatures?"

Severus clenched his legs together, highly aware that he wasn't wearing any underwear. This was like a nightmare – a strange, ridiculous nightmare. The incense was giving him a headache, and he still felt weary from his near-death experience. He didn't want to take this madman with him, back to Hogwarts. He didn't trust him in the slightest. He still had no idea what he was. And what was upsetting him the most was, despite all these problems – despite every instinct he had screaming at him – D's pleading look and moist eyes had him on the verge of agreeing.

"Very well," Severus said. He told himself that it was necessary to take D back with him. Only at Hogwarts could he find out the truth about the Count's origins – back on his own ground.

Count D smiled and stood, taking a very firm grip on Severus' arm. "Let us depart. Do that spinning trick, Professor, I am ready."

Count D still stunk of incense and sugar, but he was warm and close. Severus' head reeled and, for a split second, he nearly did as asked. Then he pushed D away – not hard, but hard enough that D stumbled and flailed, turning to glare at Severus.

"I need to get dressed first," Severus insisted.

"I am afraid that my animals have used your clothes for bedding," Count D said. He said it apologetically, but there was an amused quirk to his lips that made Severus want to throttle him.

"Very well," Severus said coldly. He turned his wand towards himself and muttered several incantations, turning the skimpy dressing gown into a more substantial set of robes. It was still ridiculous, but at least it covered him more successfully. He grabbed D's arm. "Let's go."

*****

"Was it really necessary to bring the goat?" Severus asked.

The goat glared at him. Severus could only see it as a goat now. He preferred it that way. As a goat it was smaller, and Severus entertained several pleasant daydreams about kicking it out of the window.

"Yes," Count D said. "I believe in educational trips for my animals. Now, Professor, you mentioned tea."

Severus rolled his eyes and Summoned a house elf, ordering it to fetch tea and cakes. The Count watched the conversation with a tense expression.

"You keep slaves?" he murmured, turning his face away from Severus. "How barbaric."

"It is barbaric to stop them from serving," Severus snapped. "Do not judge a species before you know more about them. They live to serve; it is their way."

Count D turned back to him, his face distressed. "A species that enslaves itself on purpose?"

Severus nodded curtly. "They are well treated and enjoy their work."

D bit his lip. "There is so much about the world I do not yet know," he said, quietly. "I fear sometimes that I am as judgmental as my father."

"And what is your father?" Severus asked sternly, hoping to finally discover what manner of man he was entertaining to tea. He was uncomfortably aware that he had taken a big risk in taking the Count into Hogwarts – giving him the means to see the wizarding world.

"What?" the Count asked. He looked distracted, glancing around the room. "Oh, he is a kami. As am I."

Severus blinked. He was entertaining a _god_ to tea? A god who squealed like a schoolgirl when the house elf returned bearing a tray of particularly squishy looking baked goods. Severus frowned. If the ancient gods had ever existed, they certainly didn't exist now. And if they did, they wouldn't look like cross-dressing pretty boys and hang out with flesh-eating goats.

On second thoughts…

"Mmmm," Count D said, his cheeks colouring as he pounced on the pastries. He nibbled one, eyes closed in ecstasy.

Severus stared at him. Was it possible that he'd found a man who could annoy him more than anything in the entire world, ever – even the Boy Who Lived to Infuriate? Even the way he chewed was annoying. Well, it annoyed Severus at least – and not just because Severus thought he could quite happily watch it all day. Although, come to think of it, that was probably the main issue. The man – the god – was mesmerising. Even doing the simplest thing, Severus couldn't stop staring at him. Neither could the goat thing, it seemed – although occasionally it broke off to give Severus a death glare.

"I think the goat is in love with you," Severus said, mainly to see the expression on the goat thing's face.

Count D choked on his pastry. "Tet-chan? Oh no, Professor, you must be mistaken. I think he would like to eat me, that is true, but then he does live on flesh so it's only to be expected."

The goat thing wore an expression that suggested it wanted to eat Severus – or at least chew on him, in a distinctly non-loving manner. Severus smiled at it, and felt disturbed that he was happy at getting one over on a goat.

After tea, Severus found himself playing tour guide to an overexcited child. At least, that's what it felt like to Severus. Count D tugged on his sleeve and squealed and made a face when he stepped in some mud, and acted like all his dreams had come true when Severus performed a cleaning spell on them. When he saw the animals, however, he turned dreamy and wide-eyed, almost silent. Severus found himself apologising for the lack of variety. Hagrid's beasts had all been expelled from the school grounds, and the Care of Magical Creatures teacher had taken the delicate animals home with him for the holidays. Still, there were several interesting species, so Severus explained about them while D failed to listen, putting his face far too close to everything and holding imaginary conversations with them all.

When they'd seen everything, the Count didn't look at all disappointed, but Severus felt like he'd put on a rather poor show. So he side-along Apparated the Count to Bulgaria to see the dragons – and from there they travelled half the way across the world, stopping in every location Severus could think of. It was like he was a man possessed. The Count grew quieter and quieter by his side, and by the time they returned to Hogwarts he was trembling.

"What?" Severus said. He felt annoyed. Why was the Count acting so oddly? After all the effort he'd put into showing him magical creatures, the man could at least show a little gratitude. Just because he was a god didn't mean he couldn't show some manners.

Count D visibly pulled himself together. He smiled – a tight little smile. "It is overwhelming," he said, his voice unsteady. "There is so much out there of which I did not know. If my father had known – if he had been shown…"

Severus pushed D unceremoniously into an armchair and passed him a mug of tea. "Drink," he said. "You'll feel better." Then, after some thought, he pulled out a bottle of vintage Firewhiskey and poured a generous amount into the mug. "Much better."

Count D swallowed it all. Then he swayed – an impressive feat, Severus thought with some alarm, given that he was sitting down. "Was that alcoholic?" he said, his eyes wide. "I rarely indulge."

Severus sighed. Now not only did he have a depressed god in his rooms, he had a drunk, depressed god. A drunk, depressed god with a man-eating goat by his side. He shook his finger at the goat. "This is not my fault," he warned.

The goat bared its teeth and nuzzled up against D's legs.

"Oh my," D said, rather indistinctly. "I feel odd."

Severus counted to ten in his head. "Can you walk?"

D attempted to rise, but slumped back against the chair. "Oh my," he said again.

Severus gritted his teeth and walked over to the Count, picking him up with some difficulty. He was heavier than he looked and his head lolled against Severus', his hair tickling his face. Severus discovered that the Count's dress was split up the side, the material parting to reveal endless pale skin. The Count's arms tightened around him. Severus pulled himself together, wondering why he hadn't just levitated the man, and managed to carry the Count to his bedroom.

When he laid the Count on his bed, he just sprawled across it, showing far too much skin for Severus' nerves. He looked half-asleep already, his face relaxed. Severus tugged off the Count's shoes then tucked him under the duvet, fully clothed.

Severus expected the goat thing to stay with D, but it followed him out of the room, staring at him. It wore a smug grin and made a series of noises that Severus didn't understand, but he didn't like the tone of. It was the work of a moment to fill a bowl with water – liberally spiked with alcohol – and watch the stupid thing drink itself to sleep. He hoped very much that it would have a hangover the next morning.

Severus transfigured his sofa into a bed and lay down. At some point in the night he woke to the noise of a goat thing, vomiting over a pile of his books. The goat thing sniggered in between retches. It was with some difficulty that Severus refrained from using Avada Kedavra on it.

*****

Severus woke up in agony. There was something attacking his ankle. He Summoned his wand, still half-asleep, and blasted it away. When he woke up fully, the goat thing was looking at him balefully from the other side of the room, one of its horns chipped. "Serves you right, you foul beast," he muttered. He examined his ankle. There was a neat bite-shaped mark on it. He cast a healing spell on it quickly then – before he changed his mind – did the same on the goat thing. The goat thing blinked at him, an incredulous expression in its face.

For a moment, Severus had to think hard to remember what day it was. That was always the way with holidays – when the brats were in school he couldn't wait for them to depart; but once they'd gone, the time went slowly and every day blurred into another. Then he realised – it was New Year's Eve. The one day of the year he loathed the most – simply because he was expected, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, to attend the Ministry's annual shindig. It was teeth-grindingly awful every year – and every year he swore he'd never attend another one. But every year Harry sodding Potter requested his attendance, and he felt unable to say no. He'd got the owl this year as well, like clockwork, and already had his best robes washed and pressed.

Severus sat up and stretched. The thought of the party ahead of him was already making him tetchy – and the thought of a hungover kami in his bed failed to cheer him up. He cast a quick cleansing charm on his body and his clothes then Summoned a house elf to bring a vat of coffee. The goat stared at him, and he found himself telling the elf to bring along some of whatever carnivorous goats ate as well.

What man-eating goats also ate turned out to be sausages and bacon. Severus shuddered at the sight. He never liked breakfast in the morning. He didn't like animals. He certainly didn't like houseguests. He didn't like mornings either, come to think of it.

His bedroom door opened and Count D tottered out. He looked immaculate – his hair glossy and straight, and his clothing pressed and fresh. Several owls followed him out the room. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed some of your owls to fetch me my things," Count D said, very demurely. Then he wrinkled his nose. "Is that coffee? Can I have some tea? Is there any Darjeeling? I wouldn't say no to a pastry or two." He cocked his head as if listening for something and a house elf popped into the room. D repeated his order and the house elf dashed off.

"How did you Summon him?" Severus asked, drinking down coffee as if there was no tomorrow.

"Oh, you know," D said vaguely, waving a hand. Then the tea arrived and D had his mouth full whenever Severus asked him anything at all.

*****

Severus still wasn't sure the exact steps that had led him to ask Count D to accompany him to the Ministry's party, that night. All he knew was that he'd been duped, somehow. He didn't want to go – and he certainly didn't want to take an exotic, intriguing guest with him, who'd guarantee that he'd be the centre of gossip and attention all night. But when D said yes, smiling that irritating, smug smile, Severus had felt completely unable to take it back.

Which was how he found himself in the ballroom of a large, expensive house, packed with people wearing boring, expensive clothes – accompanied by a man wearing a bright pink silk dress, with a pet goat thing with ribbons in its hair. Severus knew – he knew it deep in his bones – that Count D had purposely picked the most ridiculous outfit in his wardrobe and worn it purposely to embarrass him. It was the way he smiled at Severus, curling his long fingers around his arm (Severus had given up trying to shake him off, because he just kept doing it again – and people were starting to notice). It was the way he kept trying to put fresh flowers in Severus' hair every time he wasn't looking. It was the way he was wearing lipstick – pale but noticeable – and the kind of shoes that girls would wear. In everything D did – and said – and looked, he was trying to embarrass Severus. And Severus wasn't quite sure why.

It didn't help – of course it didn't help – that everyone thought that D was a woman. That Severus had brought a _date_. And of course D kept putting them right on his gender, but not on the date thing, curling his lethally-tipped fingers even tighter around Severus' arm and smiling that enigmatic smile.

"Are you upset that you were inebriated?" Severus muttered to him, after a particularly excruciating conversation with the Minister of Magic himself. "I am hardly to be blamed for your intolerance to alcohol."

Count D smirked – he actually smirked – and looked up at Severus through impossibly long eyelashes. "Perhaps." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I may also be commenting on the hardness of your bed, and your lack of thoughtfulness in not laying out nightclothes or bringing me tea in bed."

Severus flinched. D was doing it again, the manipulative little bastard. And now the goat thing was sniggering again and—

"Er, hello, Professor."

Severus glared – at Harry Potter. He paled. What exactly had Potter heard? "Potter," he said stiffly. Potter looked inquisitively over at the Count and Severus tried not to groan out loud. Then he cracked. He'd had enough – quite enough for one man to bear. "Count D, this is Potter. He saved the world from an insane madman. Potter, this is Count D and his man-eating pet. Count D is a god and yes, before you ask, he is of male gender and no, he is not my date. Are we clear on all points, or do I need to repeat them? I cannot take away points, nor give you detention, but I can – and will – take out my petty grievances on your children once they are of an age to come to Hogwarts."

Potter looked stunned for a moment. Then he reached up to ruffle a hand through his hair and grinned. "Sod off, Snape," he said without malice, before turning to the Count. "Nice to meet you, Count. You're a braver man than me, putting up with Severus here."

"The pleasure is mine," D said with a small bow, and the goat thing strolled over to nuzzle Potter's ankles.

Potter laughed and bent down to pet it. "Shame my kids aren't here, they'd love you." He straightened up. "So, Snape," he said, "enjoying the party as much as I am?"

"With your riveting conversation, there could be no doubt about it," Severus said. "Excuse us." He pulled on D's arm, pulling him away.

"Let us take a stroll in the garden," D said, his grip on Severus' arm tightening. He steered them out of the French windows and into the flower garden beyond. It was warm from dozens of heating charms, but dark enough that the stars were visible. "One would think that you disliked humans as much as I," D said. He said it an offhand way, but it startled Severus.

"I am not an easy man to get along with," Severus said before he really thought about it. He frowned. "And I have a past of which I am ashamed."

"As do I," D murmured. When Severus looked over at him, D was staring up into the sky. His eyes reflected the light in an odd, unsettling way. "The year is dying," D said after some time. "Can you feel it?"

"No," Severus said. "That's a ridiculous thing to say. One year is much like another, as far as I am concerned."

D turned to him, his expression impish. "Ah, you are a realist, Professor. So, if I told you that, on the first day of the New Year the gods would walk the Earth, you would not believe me?"

Severus eyed him. "I don't believe in gods."

The Count turned his eyes back up to the heavens. He smiled; a sharp smile without humour. "And I don't believe in years. A strange, artificial way to measure out your lives."

A clock began to strike, the sound echoing out into the garden.

"Well, that's done for another year," Severus began to say.

Then D kissed him.

It was a strange kiss, both chaste and far too personal for comfort. D's lips were dry but they were soft and gentle, and one of his hands wound its way around the back of Severus' neck. Severus liked it, and yet he didn't want to like it. It wasn't right, this unwelcome invasion of his personal space and his privacy. He didn't want to believe in a god who wore dresses and tasted like sugar and kissed like innocence. He certainly didn't want a pet carnivorous goat.

He didn't want to stop it, either, so he let D take control – and it was a gentle control which was hardly control at all.

When D finally pulled back he just looked at Severus, his face soft and shaded by the half-light of distant fireworks. He didn't say anything trite or romantic, or wish Severus a happy new year or any of that nonsense. He just looked at him, his expression serene.

Then, of course, the blasted goat thing bit Severus on the leg again – so hard that Severus couldn't stop himself from yelling and firing hexes at it, while D shook his arm and had loud hysterics right beside him. When they'd both calmed down Severus noticed Rita Skeeter, wide eyed and elated, staring out at them – and by the time he'd tried to strangle her, and been prevented, whatever was left of the odd, but not unwelcome, moment between Severus and D had entirely vanished.

When Severus finally returned to his Hogwarts quarters, a sleepy Count D and goat thing in tow, it was already getting light. "Can I Apparate you home?" he asked, rather stiffly.

Count D raised a hand to his mouth, covering a yawn. "I'm going to bed," he said and then, to Severus' amazement – and extreme irritation – strode into Severus' own room and shut the door.

Severus looked at the goat thing. The goat thing looked back. Then it sniggered and pulled a face that said, as clear as anything, 'sucker'.

As Severus fell asleep on the uncomfortable transfigured couch, he had the terrible feeling that not only had the goat thing won – but that the dress-wearing god was going to be a permanent fixture in his life. And the worst thing about the whole ridiculous business was that he couldn't bring himself to mind at all.

THE END


End file.
